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Hawthorne, Julian, 1846-1934

"David Poindexter's Disappearance, and Other Tales"

We stayed at the same
hotel. We played a game of billiards together, and he chatted with me
about America, and asked me about my mining studies at Freiberg; and I
thought him about the best fellow I'd ever met. But I didn't know then
--I hadn't any conception what a splendid fellow he really was. If ever
I hear anybody talking of their ideal of a gentleman, I shall ask them
if they ever met Ambrose Drayton."
"What did he do?"
"Well, the story isn't much to my credit; if it hadn't been for him,
you might never have heard of me again; and it will serve me right to
confess the whole thing to you. It's about a--woman."
"What sort of a woman?"
"She called herself a countess; but there's no telling what she really
was. I only know she got me into a fearful scrape, and if it hadn't
been for Mr. Drayton--"
"Did you do anything wrong, Frank?"
"No; upon my honor as a gentleman! If I had, Mary, I wouldn't be here
now."
Mary looked at him with a sad face. "Of course I believe you, Frank,"
she said. "But I think I would rather not hear any more about it.


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